The town of Criconi was a bustling serenity. Rich trade markets, fertile farm lands, a natural spring just a mile's walk from the boundary that drew tourist attraction. Winters bore picturesque white snowcaps and a gentle blanket of snow. Summers brought hearty festivals of lively music, abundant foods, and awe inspiring art.

Like all towns, there were whispers that thread through them. Don't go to the springs past midnight. Don't eat the bread from the bakery on the corner of the town border.

And to every passing ear, local to passerby, the same warning: Do not enter the neighbouring forest.

They called it Eutierria. It was a beautiful place. Too beautiful to be natural. Stories were told of rich lands, of trees that bore fruit sweeter than any a man could taste. Of hidden groves abundant with fish, fat and oily and shimmering beneath the surface.

But that kind of beauty was protected by something otherworldly. Something that claimed every soul that entered Eutierria and didn't allow them to return.

Nikodem had been passing through when he heard the whispers. He'd never been good at staying away, so he crept closer. Snuck into Eutierria at the dead of night, when the crickets hummed and the earth resonated with something... alive.

He had found his way in. The forest seemed to close around him. And every step he took, he felt a gaze on the back of his neck.